Picking Petals off Roses
by Grey-Rain-Cloud
Summary: "'Oh my,' the Hat said, concerned, 'a demon thief has come to Hogwarts.' This was one of those times that the Sorting Hat wished Salazar hadn't put the secrecy enchantment on him. If he hadn't, the Hat would have tattled to Headmaster Dumbledore. The Hat got the impression that the demon was smirking."
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_"Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return." –Bible, Genesis 3:19_

I.

_ They were running. It was not fear though, that pumped through their veins, but adrenalin. Kurama was ahead, his silver hair snapping behind him like an angry rattlesnake. He glanced back occasionally to make sure his partner was keeping up. His partner, Kuronue, was the faster one normally, but he had his bat wings unfurled slightly, providing cover for them in case the other demons they had stolen from threw a projectile. It would hurt, certainly, if something like an arrow were to pierce the leather appendages, but Kuronue had always healed fast. _

_ Spears were thrown in their direction, and Kurama heard Kuronue laugh breathlessly as they weaved through the bamboo trees in a haphazard, serpentine route. Clothes whipping left and right, as if caught in a tornado, everything was jostled as they ran at inhuman speeds. They were almost safe. Kurama looked behind him again, smirking, and felt his limbs slowing down as he watched the chain around Kuronue's neck that held his red stone pendant break and drop to the dirt floor._

_ Kuronue immediately turned back for it._

_ "Stop Kuronue!" It felt as if there was a boa constrictor wrapping its long body around Kurama's chest._

_ "I need it!" _

Why?_ Kurama wanted to yell. _Why is it so important that you would risk your life?_ Kuronue picked up his pendant and started to turn around again, but in his haste he set off a trap, and shoots of bamboo rush towards him. They pierced his wings, his calves and thighs, and several times throughout the rest of his body._

_ "Kuronue!" He felt a rosebud of horror bloom unpleasantly in his stomach._

_ Kuronue raised his head painfully to make eye contact with Kurama; blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and stained his teeth. "Forget about me and run Kurama!"_

_ A hesitated. They could both hear the drumbeat of heavy foot falls getting closer._

_ "Go!"_

_ He turned and ran. _

_ Later, when he was safe from the pursuing demons and bamboo spears, Kurama looked at the prize that had come from their heist and thought about how a mirror with no special enchantments, just pretty jewels, was not worth it. Then again, neither was the pendant._

II.

Rose red hair and grass green was the first thing Kuronue saw when he was born from his human mother. He did not see this with his eyes, but with his mind. The part that showed him the past-present-future all at the same time, the part that threatened to drive him to madness, the part that made his demon mother, Amarante, give him his precious pendant that held all of her life force, in order to block it.

The second thing he saw was his human mother, pale and sweaty with matted dirty blond hair, hazel eyes, and an aloof expression on her face as she held him.

Third, he saw that when he had compressed his whole being into just an orb of his demon powers—which was hard to do when you could barely see from blood loss, and _hurt_—then taken the first portal into Human World he could, and finally, invaded the womb of a woman whose child had no soul and would either be miscarried or stillborn—he didn't want to have to compete for control of his human body just because there was already someone inhabiting it—he hadn't taken into account of the gender. Because when he got a tiny glimpse of between his chubby baby legs? Yeah, that was female.

So he was now a she. Great.

It was a good thing he had never really cared about gender or else he—she—might have just evacuated his—her—new body in search for a different one with more familiar genitalia. Never mind the fact that Kuronue wasn't sure exactly how to 'evacuate' this new body now that his soul and demon powers had taken up residence.

(The first thing he heard was his human mother speaking to him in a different language—was that _English_?—and thinking, _the fuck?_)

III.

Fun Fact: portals from Demon World to Human World only let through demons that are B-class or lower, and connect primarily to Asian countries, specifically Japan. There are a few that connect to the United States of America, and even fewer that go to European countries. None thus far have been reported in Canada.

Kuronue, somehow, had found himself a European portal, and now found himself living in a manor somewhere in Wales with his human parents Raphael and Cecelia Lestrange, and older brothers Rodolphus and Rabastan.

IV.

Raphael Lestrange found himself in a constant state of confusion when it came to his daughter, Rosalie Raphaella. It had taken her an inordinate amount of time to start speaking. So long, in fact, he had considered taking her to St. Mungo's to see a Healer. His wife Cecelia, formerly of the Nott family, had not allowed it, saying that she didn't trust a Healers loose lips. _Soon enough_, she had informed her husband_, everyone would be aware that we have a deficient daughter and there would be rumours of exactly _how_ strong her magic was_.

By the age of five though, Rosalie seemed to have caught up in her speaking, and she did well with the tutors that Raphael hired for her essay writing, simple maths to help with Arithmancy, and magical theory and history. And after age three, when she had first shown her Metamorphmagus talent by changing her hair silver and eyes gold, there was no more doubt as to whether or not she was a witch, even if she never did any accidental magic. Cecelia could be heard at dinner parties boasting to her friends about how her daughter was the first Metamorphmagus in the Nott or Lestrange lines.

What really confounded Raphael though, was how unladylike his beautiful daughter was; no matter how many scolding's and lectures on propriety Cecelia gave, the next day Rosalie would still go outside to climb trees, run around, and on more than one occasion Raphael had seen her do cartwheels and backflips.

He loved his daughter though, more than he loved his sons—they seemed to have inherited their temperament from their mother. Rosalie didn't take after either of her parents, she had her own baffling personality. He might have also loved her more because while Rodolphus and Rabastan were always closer to Cecelia, Rosalie didn't appear to see the need in a mother but never failed to spend time with him.

V.

"This is boring."

Regulus flicked his eyes over to the girl beside him, who had introduced herself as Rose, and said nothing. She looked to be about nine—his age—with long black hair in a spiky ponytail, and dark eyes. Sirius, Regulus' elder brother by two years, had his arms folded on the table with his head resting on them, "Yeah, the Malfoy Christmas Balls are always like this, all formal and such. I wish I was still at Hogwarts, but Mother forced me to come home. It would have at least been more tolerable if James were here—James Potter, he's my best mate—but at least I don't have to deal with the Slytherins, especially that greasy git Snape—"

Rose abruptly banged her head against the table, making the expensive vase filled with peacock feathers being used as a center piece shake, and started to make exaggerated snoring noises. Regulus was relieved for the disruption: he had already heard all he needed to of Sirius' first term at Hogwarts the day he got off the train, now it was just repetitive. Rose turned to him and groaned, "Your brother is so _boring_."

The corner of Regulus' mouth twitched.

Sirius spluttered, "I am not! Who are you?!"

She was still looking at Regulus. "I'm Rosalie Lestrange," she said with a smirk.

"Regulus Black."

"I hope you're not boring."

"I don't think I am."

"Good," she said, and grabbed his cold hand with her warm one, dragging him out of his seat. "Come with me."

Sirius was still spluttering.

VI.

"Why are we in the Malfoy's library?" Regulus whispered.

"I'm going to steal something." Kuronue replied, going on her tip-toes and scanning titles of various rare tomes.

"What!"

"Hush!"

"Why are you going to steal something? What are you going to steal?" His tone was significantly lower.

Kuronue smiled as she pulled out a book of runes she knew wasn't in her home library or the various book stores in both Diagon and Knockturn Alley. Kuronue squinted at the cover and blew a storm of dust off; this one appeared to be Nordic in origin. Good, those were always hard to find. She would need as much information as she could get if she was going to finish creating the ritual before puberty. Maybe if she begged Father to take her to New York this summer, she'd read in the pamphlets she'd 'borrowed' from the illegal travel shop in Knockturn that they had a bigger, more modern selection there…. _Eugh_, Kuronue scrunched up her nose, _more reading_.

The things she put herself through just to stay sane.

Regulus tugged impatiently on her ugly blue ruffled dress Cecelia had put her in, and Kuronue automatically smoothed it down. No reason to make it look even worse. He tugged harder when she ignored him, and Kuronue slapped his hand away. The moment she had that scarce contact with his skin, the vision she'd had in the ballroom—the one that prompted her to go and introduce herself—swept back over her and gave her that familiar feeling of a colossal wave pulling her under the ocean. She couldn't breathe.

_They were in their teens, walking down a street that looked to be in the non-magical part of Human World. She laughed at something and he scowled, "Kuronue—"_

She had clamped down her Occlumency shields before she saw anything else. But Regulus had known her real name, not her human one, and the only reason he would know that would be if she had told him. So he must be trustworthy. She would tell him but… not yet.

"I can see visions of the future, present, and past," she told him, and felt mildly smug when his eyes widened, "but, it's too strong. I'm always getting confused on which is which, and sometimes I forget where I am if I don't keep my mind clear and shield against the stronger visions."

"Occlumency," Regulus muttered.

Occlumency was the art of shielding one's mind from its counterpart, Legilimency, the art of invading another's mind. Though the main purpose of Occlumency is to protect the mind, a step to becoming proficient at the art is to organize one's mind. This is why most purebloods teach their children at least the basics, because by organizing the mind it is easier to remember things. It almost ends up being an eidetic memory, but more fallible; and when the pureblood children go to Hogwarts and get better grades than the muggleborn and halfbloods, it only gives 'credence' to the 'fact' that muggles, muggleborns and halfbloods have 'dirty' blood and 'inferior' magic.

"So I'm trying to find a way to block it off completely, and I need as many books on runes as I can find as fast as I can so I can. Because if I don't block it by the time I go through puberty," her voice turned ominous, a shadow overcoming her features, "I will go _insane_."

Regulus gulped. Kuronue had to stop herself from giggling at how freaked out he looked.

"I have a lot of old books on runes at home," he offered, and Kuronue smiled slowly. She was beginning to understand why they had looked so close in the small flash of the future she'd had—her pendant had been around her neck, and he must help her get it back.

VII.

"I spit like bacon, I'm made from an egg. I have plenty of backbone, but lack a good leg. I peel layers like onions, yet remain whole. I'm as long as a flagpole, yet fit in a hole. What am I?"

Regulus looked up from the book on Transfiguration he had been pretending to read, worrying his cheek. "What?"

"It's a riddle. Can you figure it out?" Rose asked, a challenging look upon her face. Her hair was white today, and short and spiky. Her eyes looked turquoise, and her face was, as it always was nowadays, androgynous.

"Of course I can figure it out," Regulus scoffed.

"Go on then, solve it."

For the rest of their ride on the Hogwarts Express to their first year of schooling, Regulus focussed on the riddle, writing it in the margins of his Transfiguration text. Just as all the first years were clambering onto the rickety old boats that would take them across the Black Lake, he figured it out. "A snake! You're a snake."

"That's right," Rose smirked, "and so are you."

VIII.

'_Oh my_,' the Hat said, concerned, '_a demon thief has come to Hogwarts_.' This was one of those times that the Sorting Hat wished Salazar hadn't put the secrecy enchantment on him. If he hadn't, the Hat would have tattled to Headmaster Dumbledore about the danger this demon girl posed to Hogwarts and its precious artifacts.

The Hat got the impression that the demon was smirking.

'_Well, I suppose you're loyal to this Yoko Kurama to a fault, and you work hard when there's something you want… but no, having you in Hufflepuff would not be the best for that House. It certainly takes… courage… to be in your profession… but not Gryffindor, no, you're not chivalrous. Not bright enough for Ravenclaw… you don't particularly care for learning for the sake of learning, too boring. Well, I suppose that leaves only one option. You will certainly do something, for good or ill, in the House of…_'

"SLYTHERIN!"

Polite clapping. Rosalie Lestrange grinned as she handed the Sorting Hat back to Professor McGonagall before flouncing off to the table of silver and green and sat next to Regulus Black. The girl looked at her house, the applause starting to dwindle down, and said with devious eyes, loud enough for the entirety of the Great Hall to hear, "The Hat almost put me in Hufflepuff."

Regulus face palmed.

IX.

Kuronue looked down, unimpressed, at the rickety school broom that she was supposed to fly on. Because it was 'fun'. _Nope_, Kuronue thought, _the only way I'm ever going to fly is with wings. I will not go down this dark path they have laid before me. I am loyal to my faithful leathery appendages_.

"Sorry," Kuronue said, catching the attention of Madam Hooch and the Gryffindor-Slytherin mix flying class, "but I don't think I'm old enough to have a stick of wood between my legs, let alone _ride_ it."

Madam Hooch stared at her, completely shocked at the innuendo, as the rest of the class murmured amongst themselves in confusion. Why wouldn't someone want to ride a broomstick? They wondered.

Kuronue returned Madam Hooch's stare with half-lidded eyes and an ever-so-slight smirk.

It was a very perverted look.

(Regulus, who stood beside her, was unfazed at her odd comment. Rose always said weird stuff like that, and he found it was easier to just ignore her instead of asking what she meant. She would just start giggling. "Up," he commanded his broom when everyone was still preoccupied, and mounted it.

"That's a fine piece of wood between your legs Regulus," Rose said, and started cackling

When Regulus started to hover above the ground, she said, "You seem to really enjoy riding brooms Regulus, do you think you'll do it often? Maybe you should join the Quiddich team next year, then you could play with your broomstick for hours and hours."

"Maybe I will," Regulus said, liking the feeling of the wind on his face and messing his hair. Rose collapsed on the grass in laughter, and Regulus stared at her quizzically before shaking his head.

It really was easier to just ignore her when she got like that.)

X.

"I'm telling you," said Hooch, "that girl was making vulgar comments! She kept talking about wood and riding and _playing_!"

"Now really Madam," Horus Slughorn said disapprovingly, "she is eleven years old."

"I'm afraid that I must agree with Horus," said Headmaster Dumbledore. "Is Quiddich not on broomsticks made of wood? Do you not ride a broom? Is Quiddich not considered _playing_?"

Hooch glared at the two of them, but there was a flush on her cheeks, "Mark my words, that girl is nothing but trouble. You would agree if you had seen the look on her face. And Black was just encouraging her!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_"Men are convinced of your arguments, your sincerity, and the seriousness of your efforts only by your death." –Albert Camus_

I.

_Yoko Kurama walked down the street, a heavy cloak on that covered his tail with a hood over his head so nobody saw his unique silver hair and ears. It was easier to get around when no one knew you were an extremely rare silver fox demon that had evolved from a spirit fox. Kurama, for the better part of the day, had been 'liberating' a great many stalls of their wares, mostly jewelry and gold. He was just eying a nearby snake demon who looked like he was being terribly weighed down by his heavy pockets, when someone bumped into him._

_ "Apologies," the winged demon said, even as he continued walking. Kurama paused, feeling that something was wrong, but shook his head and continued on. _

_ When Kurama went back to his camp where his various minions and his second, Yomi, were waiting, he took everything he had acquired out of his robe. That's when he noticed that much of the jewelry he knew he had lifted was not there. He was angry at first, furious even that someone—that winged demon that had bumped into him purposefully—had dared to pickpocket _him_, the King of Thieves. Then he smirked; maybe he should visit this demon, he hadn't recruited anyone in a while._

II.

_ Kurama found him in a tavern, not as one of the customers but a tender. When Kurama sat on a stool at the bar, all the winged thief—a bat demon, he saw, though strangely attractive considering most of that dying race was deformed in some way—did was smile at him and ask what Kurama wanted. It was peculiar, because Kurama had come in uncloaked, and his appearance usually garnered stares—it certainly had with all of the taverns patrons._

_ "What would you recommend?" This was where Kurama was supposed to smile or look friendly, but he did not try to conform to social niceties. His slanted gold eyes stayed cold, and his lips did not so much as twitch. The bat demon didn't seem to care._

_ "Truthfully, the red wine is the only thing here halfway decent, but the _usual_ clientele much prefer the sakè, which tastes like shit. Your choice." He started to clean the inside of a cup with a rag._

_ "The wine then."_

_ "Good choice. I'm Kuronue, by the way," the bat demon grinned and procured two wine glasses that looked hardly used. He poured the wine, which was a deep red that looked purple in the dim lighting, in both glasses. He handed one to Kurama, and took a sip from the other._

_ "You know what I would really like?" Kurama asked after a few minutes of silence._

_ Kuronue looked at him._

_ "To know how you pickpocketed me so easily, thief, that I did not know it until I emptied my pockets."_

_ Kuronue stared into his wineglass. His voice was mild, "Are you sure it was me?"_

_ "Not many demons around here have wings quite as large as yours." _

_ Kuronue preened, his wings flexing. "Hypothetically, if it had been me that was able to liberate you of your possessions, it would be because pickpocketing is my specialty. And it's obviously not yours."_

_ "You're right, it's not. I'm more prone to hunting… bigger game."_

_ "Oh?"_

_ "Yes," Kurama smirked, "and I happen to have a proposition for you."_

III.

_ "I'm not going to be one of your fucking followers."_

_ Kurama frowned._

_ "I wouldn't say no to being a partner though."_

_ Kurama paused to think, but in the end nodded and smirked. If this 'partnership' turned out to be more trouble than it was worth he could always have Kuronue… taken care of._

IV.

_ Something was bothering Kurama. "Why do you not comment on my status as one of the few silver fox demons living?"_

_ Kuronue paused in straightening his hat and looked at Kurama in surprise, "You're a silver fox? Huh, suppose it makes sense with how vain you are." Kurama kept looking at him. "Oh, you want to know why I didn't notice that _his Highness_ was silver." Kurama nodded, ignoring the dig at his title as King of Thieves. He had gotten used to them. "I'm colorblind," Kuronue smirked._

_ "Then why do you steal jewels you cannot see the color of? How do you know which silks are good quality? Which paintings are not forgeries?" _

_ "I like the sparkle of jewels. Silk is all about the feel, not how it looks. With paintings I pay more attention to the brushwork, how old the canvas is, and how the painting smells—forgeries are usually too recent, so they smell of paint fumes, while the real painting should smell of dust, old books, and the room it's in. Now," Kuronue clapped his hands, "are we stealing the tapestry or what? Good," he said before Kurama even gave the affirmative, "then let's go!"_

_ Kuronue gave Kurama a sudden kiss and grinned as he pulled back from Kurama's shocked-still form. "For good luck!" Kuronue called over his shoulder, already running to his position. _

_ Alone, Kurama allowed his mouth to twitch upward._

V.

_ "Yomi is becoming a problem." _

_ "I am aware."_

_ "What are you going to do about it?" Though Kuronue was Kurama's partner, he had no say on what was done in regards to Kurama's 'following', and that included the punishment of Yomi, who had been going against Yoko Kurama's orders and getting his men killed. _

_ "I have something planned."_

_ "I think…" Kuronue trailed off. "I think," he continued, "that he is acting out because he is jealous."_

_ "Of?"_

_ "Me. And my relationship with you."_

_ "Like I said, I have something planned. The problem will be dealt with soon enough."_

VI.

_ Kuronue furled and unfurled his wings from where he lay on his stomach, one arm thrown over Kurama's abdomen. His other arm was hidden beneath the pillow that his head rested on. "So now we're officially real partners."_

_ Kurama had his eyes closed. "We were already partners, at your insistence might I add."_

_ "Yes, but one of us had a bunch of shit-for-brains lackeys at his beck and call, so it wasn't an equal partnership. Now, since they all went 'missing' on that last mission they went on with Yomi—may he rest not so peacefully—we both have just ourselves, our skills and fantastic sex to offer."_

_ Kurama hummed; he was half asleep._

_ There was a period of silence. Then, "I love you."_

_ Kurama's eyes snapped open. "No you don't," he replied calmly. "Demons do not love."_

_ "I love you," Kuronue repeated, but Kurama took it as the bat demon trying to convince himself and turned over. He went to sleep._

VII.

_ "I love you."_

_ "I don't believe you."_

VIII.

_ Yoko Kurama lost his passion for thieving after Kuronue died. He tried doing a couple of smaller heists after the bat demons death, but he found that he had become so used to having a dependable partner by his side that he made mistakes on his own, and more often than not he was fleeing castles and manors with just his life. He was still known as the King of Thieves, but it was little more than a legend, a scapegoat for other thieves to pin their heists on. _

_ He stopped thieving and spent more time travelling Demon World and studying the effects of the plants he had such an affinity for._

Forget about me and run! _Echoed though his mind. It was not something a demon would say—demons were selfish and cared little for the lives of others, they were not self-sacrificing—yet Kuronue had._

_ He thought—too late—that he might just believe Kuronue._

IX.

Fun Fact: bat demons are commonly very powerful, but not desirable. Because they are so powerful, their bodies are born deformed; the more powerful, the more deformed. Thus they usually live in solitude. This is also the reason that they are mostly extinct; they are not seen as sexually desirable.

Kuronue was born with a 'birth defect'. All his powers internalized, making it hard to draw them out. His powers found an outlet by giving him visions and healing him more rapidly than was usual in demons. The easiest way Kuronue was able to externalize his demon powers was by creating solid weapons (i.e. his scythes).

His magic had done the same thing. Even with a wand, Kuronue was never going to be good with magic. It would take an obscene amount of concentration (that was not worth the result) to make a pineapple dance. On the plus side, the outlet his magic had found was not so detrimental to his continued sanity. Instead of giving Kuronue visions of the past, present and future like his demon powers had, he was made into a Metamorphmagus.

X.

It was while flipping through a Transfiguration text—that may or may not have been borrowed from a Ravenclaw third year—that she got the idea. It was about Animagi and 'becoming your inner animal.' Kuronue knew that her inner animal would be a bat, and got excited. Then she read the fine print:

_'Metamorphmagi are unable to perform the transformation due to the unstable magic in their bodies that gives them the ability to change their genetic traits_.'

Kuronue had cursed fluently when she read that, upsetting Madam Pince in the library. She had been thrown out for vulgar language.

Now, Kuronue stood in front of the mirror in the girls' washroom and focussed so hard she thought that she'd go cross-eyed. She felt her ears, stared at them, and let out a triumphant yell. They were black, leathery, and shaped like a bats. Just like her old ones.

Perfect.

"Take that you shitty Transfiguration book! I got bat ears!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_"The dumber people think you are, the more surprised they're going to be when you kill them." –William Clayton_

_"The public is wonderfully tolerant. It forgives everything except genius." –Oscar Wilde_

I.

Regulus thought Charms was fascinating. He wanted to know why certain wand movements were needed to produce a result; what the purpose of incantation was. Regulus dreamed of being an adult, creating new spells. Knowing the Arithmancy behind every charm, hex, curse and jinx. He thought that it sounded grand.

(He would write textbooks under a pseudonym. Then he would feel extra smart when he heard people on the streets talking about how inventive and ingenious his spells were.)

He got the Levitation Charm, _Wingardium Leviosa_, to work on his first try. His magic twisted through the veins of his arm down to his fingertips, coiling tightly in his wand before bursting out and lifting the feather five centimetres off his desk. Regulus smiled, pleased. He looked to where Rose was pointing her wand at the white feather, listlessly repeating the incantation. She didn't even bother with the wand motions.

Regulus snorted. Rose seemed oddly disenchanted with magic, especially for a pureblood. She was always bored when she read about Charms, Transfiguration and even Defense Against the Dark Arts. Regulus doubted he would ever understand her views on magic. For him magic had always been like a constant friend, there for him when Mother was giving Sirius lessons on the Black Lordship and politics for when he came into his inheritance, or when Father shut himself away in his study. Magic had been with him before even Rose.

When he was younger, Regulus had treated his magic like an imaginary friend. He spoke to it about his day before bed, asked it questions during the day, and though magic never answered verbally, Regulus had always fancied that he could feel a thrum of something throughout his body; maybe a warmth in his stomach.

Regulus was glad that Rose wasn't very good at magic. Magic was _his_ thing; what _he_ was good at. Rose was brilliant at runes, was athletic and liked to swear when her family wasn't around. Those were _her_ things. It was comforting for Regulus; he felt like he contributed something to their friendship that wasn't dusty old books in the Black library.

Rose _thunk_-ed her head against the desk and groaned.

Regulus smiled.

II.

McGonagall put Rose to sleep.

They were Transfiguring a matchstick into a needle, which Rose had commented right away in sarcasm, "_Ooh_, how useful. How _convenient_. Because the need for _sewing_ _needles_ is definitely greater than the need for _matches_."

McGonagall's sharp voice did nothing to keep Rose's eyes from glazing over. Actually, it made matters worse. Professor McGonagall's voice was similar to that of Walburga Black, Regulus' mother. Rose had learned very early on how to tune his mother out.

"Miss Lestrange! I will not tell you again! Kindly _stay awake_!"

III.

Defence Against the Dark Arts, for first years, is usually the most interesting to first years. It is where they learn all the useful little hexes that they use in the hallways on the people they don't like. Regulus, being a Slytherin _and_ a member of the Black line, had learned all these remedial spells by the time he was nine. As such, he was bored.

It was lucky then, that Rose did not find any of the blathering being done by the Defense Professor of interest. Indeed, instead of listening to Professor Stubby—and truly, everything about the man was stubby—she made faces when his back was turned.

That was all the entertainment that Regulus needed.

IV.

She fell asleep within minutes of hearing the drone of their History of Magic teacher, Professor Binns. Regulus couldn't blame her. Rose had always been easy to bore, and she'd had an easy time of falling asleep. Though she was also a light sleeper, waking up instantly if someone came near her or even just stepped into the room she was in. So when Binns started to drone on about the goblin wars and goblin names and really, anything remotely goblin related, she had turned to Regulus and whispered not-so-quietly, "I think he might have a fetish," then promptly laid her head on top of her folded arms and fell asleep.

Regulus put a Silencing Charm over her so nobody could hear her snores.

Then, with nothing to do, Regulus started to doodle on his parchment. At first it was just little swirls and scribbles, nothing of consequence. Then he started to sketch the goblin depicted in his text. Finishing that, he noticed that it was a pretty good copy and smirked. At least now he had something to do during History.

Maybe next time he would draw a dragon….

V.

Rose wasn't a natural in Herbology, but she seemed to have a peculiar determination with doing her absolute best in that class. She read _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Phyllida Spore from front to back at least twice and made little notes in the margins in a different language. When Regulus asked her what it was she said that it was, "Kanji," and didn't elaborate further.

Sometimes when Rose got really focused on her Herbology essays she would start to chuckle and mutter to herself, saying things like, "Rub it in his face… doesn't even know… hah! He'll be so jealous…" Then she would start cackling, and most of the students around her would lean away. Regulus, having self-preservation, did not ask who this mysterious 'he' was, trying to convince himself that she was talking about one of her older brothers.

Sometimes you just had to let Rose have her secrets.

(That way you have plausible deniability.)

VI.

Kuronue's favorite class was Potions. This is actually not that surprising considering she sucked at magic, and though she worked hard in Herbology she wasn't ashamed to admit that it was mostly because she wanted to be able to shove her superior knowledge of plant life into genius Kurama's face when she met him again. He didn't even know about any of these plants! Not the flowers or herbs or fruits or trees! Oh, she could just imagine his face when he learned about the Whomping Willow or Devil's Snare.

Knowledge of Herbology was really helpful in Potions too. Like if you knew the properties of the seeds of the Fire Seed Bush, then you'd know to add them once the cauldron was taken off the flame and cooled to a medium temperature because the seeds are hot enough as it is. You wouldn't want to blow your eyebrows off.

What was most interesting to Kuronue though was the color changes the potion would go through while brewing. Sometimes it would go silvery like cutlery, then change to the violent color of a disemboweled orange. In her demon form Kuronue was completely colorblind. Everything was in a range of various greys, but when she was in her human form, her Rosalie Raphaella Lestrange form, she saw color. At first it had been overwhelming, and Kuronue really had felt like a baby learning for the first time when her father was speaking to her in slow English she didn't understand and teaching her colors she had never seen before.

Kuronue didn't think she would ever tire of watching potions change, naming every color in her head—red, green, blue, yellow, violet, pink—while remembering when her father would hold her and make puffs of colored smoke with his wand.

VII.

Regulus fell asleep in Astronomy class because his mother had already drilled all of that crap into his head.

Kuronue fell asleep because, _Seriously! It's midnight on a fucking Wednesday, and I'm already being forced to be awake during the day when I'm fucking nocturnal, and do you know what a bitch it is to be nocturnal when you're in a school with a bunch of pansy wizards who think it's sane to be awake when there's a great ball of fire in the sky?!_

VIII.

_Did you know that she can't even do a Levitation Charm? _

_ No! Really? That's, like, the easiest spell ever!_

_ I know! How stupid can you get, right?_

Laughter.

_ She can't transfigure a needle into a matchstick either. _

Giggles.

_ I thought Metamorphmagi were supposed to be the best at Transfiguration. Is she, like, a Squib?_

_ No, just retarded. _

Kuronue whipped her whole body around, her hair long and black and spikey and eyes a glowing violet. "You wanna say that shit to my face bitches?"

The two Gryffindor first years squealed like constipated pigs and ran away.

IX.

A Ravenclaw Regulus remembered from Defense walked by and shot a Cutting Curse casually at the strap of Regulus' school bag, calling over his shoulder, "That's what you get for cheating! There's no way you would get a higher mark than me on a test."

Rose pinned a truly terrifying stare at the back of the Ravenclaw, "We have to do something about these bastards."

"I agree, but how do we do that without getting into trouble?"

The slow way that Rose turned her head towards him made Regulus liken her to a deranged owl.

X.

"Albus, there have been innumerable thefts done to the first years. Something needs to be done!" McGonagall said sharply.

Sprout nodded, "We must find out who is doing this."

"Have you thought that Mr. Potter and Mr. Black might be the culprits, Minerva?" Flitwick asked.

McGonagall sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, "I have. They plead innocence, saying they would never pick on the first years so much. They also have alibis provided by Mr. Lupin and Mr. Pettigrew. Ms. Evans even vouched for them!"

"What about the pranks; have they been doing those?"

"No." They had seemed quite put out when they had to admit that the influx in pranks was not caused by them.

"Who could possibly be doing this?" Sprout cried.

"The real question, my dear," Dumbledore said solemnly, "is what possible reason this individual would have in stealing the underwear of the first years."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_"Cruel is the strife of brothers." –Aristotle_

I.

Regulus stared at the pile of various types of underwear before him, then flicked his eyes over to Rose. "So… what are we supposed to do with these exactly?"

Rose stroked her chin, looking thoughtful. Her face was once again androgynous, her hair a mossy green and in a long ponytail and eyes a solid red—no pupil or whites. Regulus wasn't sure if she just liked freaking out her fellow first years and creeping everyone else (even the teachers) out, or if she was getting into the Christmas spirit. He rather doubted the latter. "I dunno," she shrugged.

"What! You don't know!? Then why did we steal all of our classmates undergarments?!"

Rose raised her hands up in surrender, or perhaps she was just trying to protect herself from his wrath. "Hey now, we didn't steal _all_ of our classmates underpants, just the ones that pissed us off."

"But I thought you had a plan!"

"This _was_ the plan," she gave an awkward smile. "Big heists aren't my forte, I'm more of a sticky fingers kinda person." He gave her a furious stare and turned to march out of the empty classroom.

("I'll figure out what to do with them! Really!" She called after him. He slammed the door behind him. Kuronue sighed and muttered, "Hn. Everybody's a critic.")

II.

It had been two days since Regulus' temper tantrum, and he had been giving Kuronue the silent treatment. Did he think this would make her apologize for whatever it was he thought she should apologize for? _Pfft_, as if. Kuronue couldn't say that she was bothered by the two days of silence. She had actually been able to further her studies in rituals from the texts in the library that she may or may not have taken illegally from the Restricted Section. Though the books were boring, she felt she was a step closer to getting her pendant back. Apparently, when drawing the runes for the ritual, instead of using purified chalk, blood worked much better, but the use of any magic that required blood as a 'sacrifice' was decreed illegal by the Ministry of Magic. When had Kuronue ever been concerned with the law though?

Kuronue had also looked up some already created Summoning Rituals, and they were helpful, though considering Kuronue wanted to summon an object from a different realm, she knew that she would have to create her own. It was too bad that the magical world was completely ignorant of the Demon World, or even demons in general. If they weren't, Kuronue was sure that a Dark Lord would have already found a way to summon demons, and it would be much easier to work from that.

(Sometimes, Kuronue got an uneasy feeling in her stomach, like something fizzy was eating away at her stomach lining, and then the tips of her fingers started to tingle like she'd been sitting on them for an hour. Because what she was doing… what Kuronue was trying to create…. It was almost like a portal. And if something went wrong and instead of just getting back her pendant she created a permanent hole in Human World to Demon World…. Then demons could roam wherever they wanted freely.

It would be pure chaos.

It was frightening to think about.

[On the other hand, Kuronue couldn't help but cackle at the thought. She wondered how King Enma—that bastard—would deal with that: a permanently open portal to the Human World. He'd probably go insane.

And it was a heady feeling to think that she, Kuronue, would have been the one to make the portal.]

Kuronue shook her head and shivered. She'd have to be very careful. If there ever was a portal that Enma couldn't close, he'd probably find her and chuck her back into Demon World, which would be dangerous at the moment considering she hadn't been able to transform into her demon form yet.)

III.

When at dinner on the last day at Hogwarts before it was time for Christmas vacation Kuronue saw Sirius Black—that dunce—shoot a spell at Regulus that wrote the word 'SWOT' on his forehead, she had an idea. An idea so bloody brilliant that she decided to treat herself to a second rare and bloody steak.

Now she just needed an accomplice to do the magic required.

Kuronue spotted a whole bowl of peach slices. _Oh well_, she thought as she commandeered the bowl_, I'll just think about it after break. _Then she started on her feast.

IV.

Raphael had decided to take his family to Whistler in Canada for the duration of the Christmas vacation. Originally he had only wanted to bring Rosie with him, but Cecelia had insisted that they should stay together for the holidays like a family should, and _what was he doing favoring one child when they had three to think about?_

(Which basically meant that she needed to go and keep up appearances with her little gossip friends so they wouldn't think that they were having marital troubles, and that instead of paying attention to Rosalie he should be putting all he had into Rodolphus and Rabastan—the _respectable_ and _talented_ of their children.)

The magic shops in Whistler mostly sold bobbles and souvenirs, but there were a select few shops that held things that Raphael knew would interest Rosie, like the menagerie and book shop.

He just wished his wife and sons were not there. And he was sure Rosie felt the same.

"Rabastan I swear, if you don't leave my hair alone I'll put an acromantula in your bed while you're sleeping!" Rosie threatened while slapping Rabastan's hands that had been yanking her corn yellow hair none too gently.

"My apologies sister," he sneered, "I was just marvelling at the only magic that you _can_ do."

Rodolphus laughed nastily, and Cecelia smirked with a sniff.

"That's enough," Raphael commanded sternly, and almost smiled when Rosie perked up at his voice. "Why don't you boys take your mother sightseeing? Rosie and I will be in the shops."

He grabbed hold of Rosie's hand and walked away before they could complain. After they were a good distance away, Rosie started giggling and Raphael smiled. "Where do you want to go first Rosie?"

Her face went blank right before Raphael's eyes, though he wasn't worried. The first time she had done this Raphael had panicked, but she had snapped right out of it in a few seconds. When he had asked Rosie what had happened, she had told him that she was just thinking really hard about something, and though Raphael didn't quite believe that he accepted it. Rosie had always come to him if there was something dangerous, like the time she had found a Graphorn—a large, hump-backed creature with greyish-purple skin tougher than a dragons, can repel most spells, has two golden horns and walks on four-thumbed feet—in the forest by their home back in Wales.

(That was the day that Raphael knew for sure that his daughter wasn't going into Gryffindor; she had self-preservation. As a reward for handling the situation so maturely at the young age of eight, Raphael had let Rosie keep the Graphorns two golden horns and had helped her stick them to the wall in her room.)

[Raphael knew that if either of his sons had been in the same situation, they would have thrown sticks and stones at the creature and taunted it.]

Rosie came out of her trance. "The menagerie! I know just what to get Regulus for Christmas."

"I thought you two were having a spat," Raphael said.

"Yeah, yeah," she waved a hand indolently. "He just needs a bit of time to get over it."

Raphael smiled and swung his daughter up, throwing her over his shoulder. She whooped when he started running at top speed to the menagerie. _This is what I want_, Raphael thought, _just a vacation with the two of us._

He made a vow that all of the other vacations they went on would be just them.

V.

Regulus was _painfully_ bored. Mother was holed away in her bedroom drinking sherry, and Father had retreated to his study as soon as the arduous task of present opening was over. Now Regulus was sitting on his bed with various Dark Arts books around him. He had hung up his three new dress robes in the closet already, and dumped the useless trinkets he had been gifted in his desk drawers. Now there was nothing to do but read, and who wanted to read on Christmas?

Regulus wondered if the day would have been more exciting if Sirius was at home instead of over at Potters house. Probably not. Sirius would most likely whine the whole time about wanting to be at Potters, burn all of his presents that he deemed evil, then talk about how awesome Potter was.

_Honestly_, Regulus thought, _the way he worships Potter makes me wonder if he wants to play _bed_ Quiddich with him._

Regulus blinked. What did bed Quiddich even _mean_? He'd been spending too much time with Rose if he was now repeating things she had said to him in his head. He frowned to himself; he actually _hadn't_ been spending time with Rose though, so maybe since she wasn't there to say anything, he was compensating by thinking things she had said before?

Truthfully, Regulus didn't even know why he was angry with Rose anymore. He knew it was about the undergarments, but he didn't know why it had seemed like such a big deal at the time. He'd come to the conclusion a couple days into the holidays that he had been silly, and that if he had wanted to do something grand with the pilfered underclothes, he should have come up with a plan on his own instead of just expecting Rose to know.

He wasn't going to apologize though, because Rose hated apologies. She had once said to him, "Apologies are useless. Just show that you are sorry and move past it. People say that to be the bigger person is to apologize and recognize your mistakes, but I think it's all about giving power. When you say sorry to someone, you're giving them power; letting them weigh your worth; bring you to your _knees_. You can be sorry and recognize that you were wrong, that's good. Now _show it_."

So Regulus had decided that when he went back to Hogwarts, he would pretend as if nothing had happened, but he would make sure to keep his emotions in check. And for that he had started to delve deeper into Occlumency.

A tapping came from his window. When Regulus looked over he saw what looked like a small, underfed vulture. Its feathers were blackish green, and it had a sharp beak. It also had a small box and envelope clutched in its talons, which made Regulus open the window for it, thinking it was some sort of mutant post owl. The bird dropped its burdens on Regulus' bed and fluttered up to perch on his dresser.

When Regulus opened the envelope, he was surprised:

_ 'Regulus,_

_ I hope you're not having too dull a time (though considering where you are, that would be pretty fucking hard). I'm having a great time with my father in Whistler (it's in Canada) and we were looking through the shops when I figured out what to get you for Christmas. _

_ The bird that delivered this letter is an Augurey (also called an Irish Phoenix). They're really interesting because they sing a long and mournful cry when it's about to rain. They eat insects and fairies (I put a fair amount of its food in the package that came with this letter so you wouldn't have to worry about feeding it for a while), and live in tear-shaped nests made of thorns and brambles, but a perch will do. Oh, and their feathers repel ink, so you can't use them as quills._

_ (Did I mention that the bird is your present? Because it is.)_

_ Love,  
Rosalie Raphaella Lestrange_

_ P.S. I named him Eerie, and he already responds to it so you're not allowed to change it. Ha!'_

Regulus looked up at his new pet, "Hello Eerie."

Eerie let out a mournful cry.

VI.

"Excuse me."

Lily Evans looked up from the book she was reading to see a little Slytherin first year. She couldn't tell if the Slytherin was a boy or a girl, which was disconcerting. What was more disturbing was the sinister grin on the preteens face. "Yes? Did you need help with something?"

The he/she chuckled lowly, which freaked Lily out—how does a first year, whose voice hasn't broken yet, chuckle _lowly_? "I'm looking for some assistance in a Charms project, and I have been reliably informed that you are the best candidate."

"You mean like… tutoring?" Lily asked cautiously.

"Not exactly," the blue-eyed first year said, then leaned forward, brown hair falling over he/she's shoulder, with a look far too intense for an eleven year old. "Do you want to pull a prank on Sirius Black that will most certainly get him in trouble?"

Suddenly, Lily was all ears.

VII.

"_You_ were the one who took the underwear?!"

"Well, yeah, not alone though. Regulus helped."

"Regulus who?"

"Regulus Black, the more intelligent brother. He's in my year and is a genius in magic, well, except Potions. He really sucks at making potions, and he has no patience for Herbolo—"

"Don't try to distract me! I should tell the Headmaster about this! You can't just get away with this!"

"Well, I kinda _did_. I mean, then didn't even fucking _suspect_ me. I'm actually a bit offended; do I not look good enough to be a thief? Maybe I should get a hat…."

"That's it! I'm getting Professor Dumbledore!"

"Don't be such a pansy. You're a lily aren't you? So act like it! Stop hiding behind pansies and let your lily-ness shine through!"

"What does that even _mean_?"

"…. Just remember that we're doing this to get back at Sirius for being a bitch."

"Oh, alright."

VIII.

Kuronue loved the Forbidden Forest. It was so fresh and she could always find some tasty fruit to eat, but what she probably liked the most was the feeling of danger it exuded. It made Kuronue feel like she was back in Demon World, if only for a little while. It took away the lingering homesickness. It was also the best place to train. For a while, Kuronue had been attempting to materialize her scythes. She figured that it was best to start small, and then work her way up to a complete transformation into her demon form.

The only problem was….

"Fuck!" Kuronue yelled after a fifth attempt at materializing her scythes fizzled out. She was panting with exertion, having lost a lot of her energy on the failed attempts, and she had a headache from concentrating so hard. "What am I doing wrong?"

_Maybe_, Kuronue thought contemplatively, _I should start even smaller…._

She materialized a small knife in each hand and cheered.

Then they blew up in her face.

_ Right. Don't lose concentration._

IX.

After Transfigurations, Lily walked up to McGonagall's desk. "Professor?"

"Yes Ms. Evans?"

"I overheard Potter and Black yesterday, they were talking about the things that were stolen from the first years." Here Lily hesitated.

"Ms. Evans?"

"Professor, I think they've hidden the missing items in Blacks trunk."

McGonagall's lips thinned. "Thank you Ms. Evans."

X.

Regulus stared at Rose after she told him what she had done. "Why did you have to magically sew the undergarments into a quilt?"

Rose paused, the corners of her mouth turning down a bit, before she shrugged, "I dunno. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and Lily did a really good job."

Regulus face palmed, and Rose lost herself in her own mirth. He soon followed, remembering the indignant look on his brothers' face every day for a month because of the detentions he got. Potter having to do it with him was just a bonus.


End file.
